SuperStar!

"That was better than I thought, kid," came 50 Cent's deep voice, cutting through the thick atmosphere in the room.

Ethan stood there, grinning, his chest rising and falling with excitement. The beat still pulsed in the background, filling the space with an energy he didn't want to let go of just yet. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he spoke.

"Yeah, I mean… the song just came out of nowhere, but I was feeling it, and it just—happened. Naturally. And I feel like it reflects what's going on here." His voice grew more serious as he turned to Eminem, locking eyes with him. "Em, you have to release that album."

A heavy silence settled in the room. Even the beat seemed to fade into the background.

Ethan took a deep breath. "I know I'm not the one who should even be saying this to you. I'm just a newcomer. But I don't want to speak to you as an artist right now—I want to speak to you as a fan. A real fan, one who knows you still have it in you and more." His words were filled with conviction as he took a step closer.

"Look at 'River.' Look at how big it got. How can you even doubt yourself?" His voice was urgent now, raw with emotion. "You're the Rap God, man. You have to do this."

50 Cent, who had been silently watching, nodded in approval. His arms were crossed, but there was a smirk on his face like he had been waiting for someone to say this out loud.

Eminem sat there, silent, staring at Ethan. The tension in the room was suffocating. Ethan could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as he held his breath, waiting for a reaction.

Had he overstepped? Had he misread their relationship?

But then, after what felt like an eternity, Eminem nodded. "Shit… I guess it ain't my time yet."

Ethan exhaled, relief washing over him in waves as a massive grin stretched across his face.

50 burst into laughter. "Hell yeah! Ain't that what I've been telling you? But I guess you needed a youngin' to remind you that you're still poppin'."

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. 'A new Eminem album,' he thought, barely containing his excitement. 'Yeah, the boys are about to feast.'

But before he could fully process it, Eminem's voice cut through his thoughts.

"But before that," Em said, leaning forward, a smirk creeping onto his face, "let's finish what you started."

Ethan frowned slightly, confused. "Huh?"

Eminem exchanged a glance with 50 before looking back at him. "Why do you look lost? Didn't you just say you wanted a song with Eminem and 50?"

Ethan blinked. Then, his eyes widened as realization crashed over him.

"Wait… you mean right now?"

50 Cent burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Man, you started this, so we're gonna finish it. Em, drop that beat again."

The beat restarted, filling the room once more. The moment felt unreal.

Ethan swallowed hard, excitement bubbling up inside him. "Okay, about the song," he started, rubbing his palms together. "I actually have some lyrics I could give you guys. You know, I memorized the whole thing—I can pass you the verses that would fit you both perfectly."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he noticed something strange—both Eminem and 50 were staring at him like he had just insulted their mothers.

"What?" Ethan asked, completely confused.

Eminem narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "I thought you were a fan."

Ethan's brows furrowed. "I am. A big one. You know that."

50 Cent scoffed, crossing his arms. "Nah, clearly you're not. 'Cause if you were, you'd know better than to suggest writing verses for us."

Ethan's eyes widened in horror as he realized his mistake. Of course—this was Eminem and 50 Cent he was talking to. These were two of the most legendary rappers, known for writing their own bars. Suggesting he write for them? That was practically blasphemy.

But thankfully, they didn't seem offended. In fact, Eminem just chuckled, shaking his head.

"50," he said with a smirk, "let's show the kid how it's done."

Eminem restarted the beat from the very beginning, this time nodding at Ethan.

"Alright, kid. You wanted a song with Eminem and 50? Then start again from the top. Let's see if you can keep up."

Ethan took a deep breath, his pulse hammering in his ears.

This was it.

Ethan took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in his chest. The beat was rolling, thick and heavy, wrapping the room in its grip. His fingers drummed against his leg as he turned to Eminem and 50, his voice steady despite the adrenaline rushing through him.

"For the chorus," Ethan said, glancing at both legends, "what if we went with—" he took a quick breath and rapped the lines with confidence, his voice carrying the rhythm:

"You know it ain't my time to call it a day

I wanna crack one and I wanna be paid

But it's 'bout time, you remember the name (Ayy, ayy)"

The second he finished, he braced himself. Would they like it?

50 Cent exchanged a glance with Eminem, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He gave Ethan a nod, his approval coming in the form of a simple "Yeah, that works."

Eminem sat forward slightly, rubbing his chin. Then he nodded too. "That's solid," he admitted. "Has a ring to it."

Ethan grinned, his pulse kicking up a notch. Having both of them on board was insane. But the moment was just getting started.

Eminem leaned back, cracking his knuckles. The atmosphere in the room shifted. It was subtle at first—a slow simmer, a rising tension. Ethan could feel it, an almost invisible force as Em rolled his shoulders, his eyes sharp, focused.

Then he spoke.

Or rather, he rapped.

"I can still remember (What?) tryna shop a deal (Uh-huh)

From Taco Bell to TRL

I climbed the Billboard charts to the

Top until, as fate would have it (Yup)

Became an addict, funny 'cause I had pop appeal"

His voice started smooth, controlled, but it was climbing—his tone sharpening with every bar. His flow snapped like a whip, slicing through the beat as he picked up momentum.

"But they said time would tell (What?) if I'd prevail (Huh?)

And all I did was (What?) put Nine Inch Nails (Where?)

In my eyelids now (What?)

I'm seein' diamond sales like I'm in Zales (Yeah)"

Ethan couldn't help it—his head was already bobbing, caught in the energy. 50 was nodding too, his arms crossed, watching Em like a man who had seen this fire before but never got tired of it.

And then, like a switch flipping, Eminem's voice rose.

"Without a doubt, by any means

If rap was skinny jeans, I couldn't do anything

In 'em, I'd be splittin' seams of denim when I'm spitting schemes

Which really means, no 'ifs', 'ands

Or 'buts' are squeezin' in between"

His breath control was insane. Every syllable hit like a bullet, no gaps, no hesitation. It was raw, unfiltered skill. His voice held a dangerous edge now, like he was proving something all over again—not to them, but to himself.

Ethan felt the hairs on his arms rise. This wasn't just rap. This was power, years of experience, of hunger, of sheer dominance packed into every bar.

"You sleep on me 'cause you're only fucking winning in your dreams

Not even when I'm on my deathbed

Man, I feel like Eth, it isn't time to drop the mic yet

So why would I quit? The thought that I would stop when I'm dead

Just popped in my head, I said it, then forgot what I said"

Eminem's voice hit its peak—almost a shout, but perfectly controlled. The walls seemed to shake with the force of it. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, he stopped.

The beat kept rolling for a second before fading into silence.

Ethan blinked. His mouth was slightly open, his mind still processing what had just happened.

50 Cent let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Man… that's what I'm talkin' about."

Ethan finally found his voice. "That was insane."

Eminem cracked his neck, looking at Ethan with a smirk. "That's how you do it."

Ethan exhaled, nodding, his heart still hammering.

This was it.

This was rap at its finest.

The room was electric. Eminem's verse still lingered in the air, the weight of his words pressing down on them like a storm that had just rolled through. Ethan was still catching his breath, his mind replaying every bar, every punchline.

50 Cent let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Damn, man. That's what I'm talkin' about."

Eminem leaned back, smirking. "Told you I still got it." He said clearly forgetting how he was doubting himself just moments ago

Ethan just grinned, shaking his head in disbelief a big fan who would just take everything he said. "Bro, I knew you had it, but hearing it live? That's different. That's crazy."

The energy was at an all-time high, and 50 wasn't about to let it drop. He pushed off the couch, cracking his neck like a man about to go to work.

Then the beat rolled in again, deep, heavy, carrying that unmistakable swagger.

50 stepped up, his presence commanding. And then—he let loose.

"Ain't nobody cold as me, I dress so fresh, so clean

You can find me in my whip, rockin' my Fendi drip

Man, you know just what I mean"

His voice was smooth, confident, dripping with that effortless flex. Ethan and Eminem both started bobbing their heads instinctively, the rhythm pulling them in.

"Shinin', wrist with the rocks on it

Buscemis with locks on it

Everything my voice on, that shit knock, don't it?"

Ethan let out a "Sheesh!" under his breath, grinning as he nodded along. The flow was insane—classic 50, all swag, all money talk, but with that undeniable weight behind every word.

Eminem chuckled, his eyes locked on 50, clearly enjoying the show.

"Balenciaga saga, I'm in Bergdorf ballin'

It's just another episode, my hoes, I spoil 'em

She like the fly shit and I like to buy shit

Shit, I'm gettin' stupid money, what else we gon' do with money?"

50's delivery was effortless, like he was just having fun with it, but every line hit. The confidence, the attitude—it was addictive.

Ethan found himself mouthing along, caught up in the moment.

"Bitch, we be ballin' out, the king, bring me 50 bottles

Tonight we gon' blow a check, worry 'bout your shit tomorrow

The turn-up is so real, we 'bout to get super lit

Boy, I'm kickin' straight facts, that's just how we do this shit"

At this point, Eminem was grinning, nodding his head so hard it looked like he was about to break his neck. Ethan was right there with him, vibing, hands in the air as he hyped 50 up.

"Tomorrow, we hangin' over 'til we start feelin' sober

Then it's time to start it over, here we go again"

50 finished with that signature smirk, stepping back like he had just dropped 100 grand on the table and didn't need to say anything else.

The room exploded.

"Wooo! Damn!" Ethan shouted, clapping his hands together. "That was hard, man. That was cold!"

Eminem shook his head, laughing. "See, this is why you still runnin' shit, Fif."

50 just grinned, dapping up Ethan. "That's how you do it, youngin'. No hesitation, just go in."

Ethan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Man, this is legendary."

And it was.

This wasn't just a studio session. This wasn't just some song.

This was history in the making.